


Urban Bloodlust

by htea



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Blood, Blood Bond, Blood Kink, Blood Play, Bottom Draco Malfoy, Character Death, Club Owner Draco Malfoy, Clubbing, Corruption, Creature Draco Malfoy, Creature Fic, Death, Ex-Auror Harry Potter, Explicit Sexual Content, Former Lovers - Freeform, Gay Draco Malfoy, Gay Harry Potter, Gay Sex, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Ministry of Magic (Harry Potter), Minor Character Death, Not Epilogue Compliant, Oral Sex, POV Alternating, POV Draco Malfoy, POV Harry Potter, Past Lovers, Past Relationship(s), Poison, Poisoning, Post-Hogwarts, Post-War, Potions, Revenge, Rimming, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Smut, Soul Bond, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Top Harry, Top Harry Potter, Top!Harry, Vampire Draco Malfoy, Violence, bottom!Draco, gay!draco, gay!harry, night club, vampire!Draco
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:07:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24121066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/htea/pseuds/htea
Summary: Terrified of anyone like Voldemort coming to rise again, The Ministry of Magic implemented a set of strict new laws in an attempt to reform the Wizarding World. Once The Reform had taken hold, the once bright and thriving wizarding community became subject to something resembling a dictatorship. Harry’s Auror status is now a thing of the past as he makes attempts to take the law into his own hands unclouded by ministry ideals.Forced to live out the rest of his days as a vampire as a result of an attack against Lucius, Draco finds a way to make the best of his situation. But after his lover died of mysterious circumstances, his world begins to crumble around him. It’s only when he is reacquainted with Harry that the truth about the state of the world becomes clear to him. Now Draco, out for blood, and Harry, inciting resistance, team up to take down the oppressors.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 1
Kudos: 40





	1. Prologue

“I’ll see you at home.” Those were the last words Draco said to Adriel before he was gone forever. 

“I’ll be waiting.” Adriel’s last words would echo in Draco’s head. His face would haunt Draco’s dreams. He should never have allowed Adriel to leave without him.

So what if it was one of the busiest nights at Decadence. So what if they were short staffed. Malcolm was more than capable of holding his own.Yes, Draco left early--only twenty minutes after Adriel--but those were twenty minutes he would regret for the rest of his days.

Draco followed the same simple route: out the back, through the alley to the apparation point, the whole way lined with security. But the safety measures in place weren’t enough.

Upon reaching his destination, Draco froze. He sensed that there was something wrong. He would never forget that feeling. He entered cautiously, carefully observing his surroundings. There was nothing out of place, but the dwelling seemed void of all life. That dreadful feeling only grew as he made his way through the house. It completely consumed him when he reached his bedroom door. Draco’s hands shook as he reached for the knob. Slowly, he turned it and pushed the door open.

The sight before Draco was far worse than he could have imagined. 

There Adriel laid in their bed, limp and pale. A vial that contained the residue a milky green liquid rested in his hand.

Draco’s heart sank as he fell to his knees beside his lover. He cried out in agony as if his voice were able to bring Adriel back to life. Taking Adriel in his arms, Draco wept over his body unable to believe the sight before him. There was no evidence of a break in or fowl play. He looked for a note but to no avail. The act had been committed with no explanation. 

Minutes turned to hours and Draco had yet to leave his post with only one thought occupying his mind. He had to follow him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Draco**

“Why won’t you let me die,” Draco groaned as he opened his eyes to the familiar silk canopy of his bed. A sight, he had hoped he wouldn’t be greeted by.

“You’re being dramatic,” a deep, husky voice said from the other side of the room.

Draco rolled so his back was to Malcolm.

“You knew you would outlive him. It’s a fact you have to face when becoming involved with humans.”

“But not like this,” Draco uttered the words so quietly that they wouldn't have been able to be detected by human ears.

“Unfortunate as it is, blood bonds can still commit suicide.”

“He didn’t kill himself!” Draco hissed, finally sitting up to face Malcolm. 

“Finally, a reaction. Maybe you’ll listen to me now.”

Draco’s attempt at intimidation settled. “What...do you…” Draco’s breaths were shallow and he fell back onto the bed.

“When was the last time you fed?”

“Don’t remember.”

“Starving yourself won’t kill you, it’ll just make living feel worse. You might as well save yourself the suffering,”

Draco knew he was right, but he didn’t want to admit it. His body ached, he could hardly move, and there were reminders of Adriel all around him. His scent clung to the bed sheets, scraps of his clothing were strewn about the room, a partially finished cup of tea sat on the bedside table with the unmistakable mark of his lipstick smeared on the rim. Draco was sure he’d go mad. Whether driven by the shrine of his late lover or lack of nourishment was still for the fates to decide.

Malcolm crossed to Draco and crouched next to his bed. He pulled an ornamental knife from his jacket and ran the blade across his wrist. Draco stirred at the scent of the blood as it spilled from the cut. 

“Here,” Malcolm held his wrist above Draco and let his blood drip into the blonde’s mouth. “This should be enough to get you well enough to hunt.”

Draco’s tongue crept out of his mouth to catch the stray droplets. He felt the beginnings of recovery the instant his tongue came into contact with the red substance. He sat up and began to drink directly from Malcolm’s wrist. Draco’s body began to come alive as the fluid ran down his throat. With each gulp he got lost in the relief. His fangs penetrated deeper as he became stronger.

“That’s enough,” Malcolm pried Draco from his wrist. Draco hissed at his mentor from the sudden loss of satisfaction. “If you want more you know where to find it.” Malcolm pulled his sleeve over the open wound and exited Draco’s sleeping chambers. 

It took him a moment, but Draco was able to regain his composure. He took a deep breath before rolling out of bed and throwing on the first shirt and pair or trousers he could grab. All the while trying desperately not to think about his devastating loss long enough for him to take care of himself.

Even so, not all thoughts could be ignored. Something about Adriel’s death didn’t sit right with him. Draco wasn’t convinced it was suicide. The events of that evening weren’t adding up. And no one seemed to be able to give him a straight answer as to what exactly happened to Adriel. The suspicion lingered in the back of his mind, but his excruciation hunger began to take over once more. 

Draco stepped out into the sleepy streets of London. The air was crisp and cool against his skin. It was well past curfew. He would be lucky to find anyone out at this time other than the patrolling aurers, which made his task much more difficult. As much as he would have liked to indulge himself on the ministry scum it was far too risky. They had eyes everywhere and Draco was known to hunt in the area. He’d be dead before he would even have the chance to bare his fangs. Then again, maybe it was something to consider. 

Draco walked slowly through the shadows. Muggle neighborhoods were his best bet at a time like this. The risk of exposure was evident, but it was still better than dealing with the ruthless rulings over the wizarding communities. No matter how unsatisfying muggle blood was, the taste didn’t affect its ability to nourish him and the weekend was only a few days away. He’d surely be able to hold out until then.

He perched himself near the entrance of a seedy pub he’d frequented at times like this. All he needed was some poor unsuspecting bastard to stumble out into the night and into one of the many dark alleys that lined the street. Luckily, it wasn’t long until someone left the pub alone and Draco was able to make a move.

Draco followed only a few paces behind the man matching his step to keep his presence unnoticed. Once they were completely shrouded by darkness, Draco lept at his prey.

He wasted no time sinking his teeth into the exposed skin of the man's neck. His grip was so tight that he wasn’t able to cry out of help. Draco’s fangs tore into the warm flesh as he drank from his victim. The blood was tainted with alcohol, something that under normal circumstances would have deterred him, but he was so thirsty that he didn’t care. The blood soothed his aching throat as it entered his system. He continued to drink long after the man was dead and the blood became sour. Once he was completely drained, Draco stepped back and let his lifeless body fall to the ground. 

Draco looked at the mutilated corpse before him as he wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand and scoffed. It had been nearly two years since he’d taken to new prey and the taste of new blood had become unfamiliar to him.

He looked at the sky. It was going to be daylight soon. Draco peaked his head out of the abandoned London alleyway to verify that the streets were still quiet. He stepped out into the open street and noticed an annoyed Harry Potter perched on a ledge in his peripheral. Draco tried his best to not act surprised but to no avail. He jumped and turned to face him. That stealthy git always seemed to be able to surprise him despite his heightened senses.

“It’s been a while, Malfoy.” Harry said. “Back to your old ways I see.”

“I’m sure I have no idea what you mean,” Draco eyed Harry. He always looked incredibly relaxed whenever they came across each other. Although he would never admit it, Draco was impressed with his calm demeanor. 

Harry ushered towards the lifeless body of Draco’s victim.

“Oh, him? I found him like that.” Draco said. 

“You’re killing again,” Harry’s tone was even. He seemed less concerned with the dead man and more concerned with the fact that Draco wasn’t following the rules. Rules Draco couldn’t care less about. 

“That’s what I do. It’s in my nature,” Draco could have walked away. He knew that if Harry tried to apprehend him, Draco would eventually escape, and they’d be here again the next night or week or whenever Draco felt it necessary to feed again.

“You and I both know you don’t have to kill to be satisfied.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“Keep it up and I’ll hand you over to the ministry.”

“You and I both know you’d rather turn a blind eye than step through the ministry doors again,” Draco mocked Harry’s tone.

“Then I guess I’ll have to kill you,”

“I’d love to see you try,” Draco smirked. 

Harry’s body language indicated that he had no intention of scrapping with Draco. At least not that evening. “One of these days you might leave me with no choice,” Harry pulled a stake from his robes and twirled it between his fingers.

Draco lurched at Harry, who was prepared with the stake at heart level. An impossibly fast reaction for a human. Draco leaned closer to Harry so the foot long stake was the only thing holding space between them. Their eyes were locked on each other. “What is your body count, hm? 100? 200? At this rate you may wipe all of England of its vampire population.”

“That was never the plan, but you lot love trying my patience.”

“You make it too easy. You’re just so fun to tease.”

“It would seem so,”

Draco leapt backward. “Don’t miss me too much, Potter,” he said before he disappeared into the night.

**Harry**

“Hey!” A voice rang out into the night. 

Harry turned to see the owner of the voice. “McLaggen.”

“Potter? What are you doing out here?”

“What’s it matter to you?”

“Careful, someone might think it suspicious,” McLaggen’s gaze fell to Draco’s fresh kill as he spoke these words. “Not fraternizing with vampires are we?”

“And if I was?” 

“Watch it, Potter,” McLaggen warned. “Robards might give you a pass, but the rest of us aren’t so fond of you running about doing whatever you please.”

“I mind my business. Maybe you’d be less concerned if you did the same,” Harry said. 

“You call interfering with ministry affairs minding your business?”

“I do a hell of a lot better than whatever it is you lot are doing,”

“Get off the streets, Potter. If I see you out here again I’ll take you in for breaking curfew.” McLaggen turned to continue his patrol. 

Harry smirked and tightened his grip on his wand. He had not intention of adhering to ministry regulations. Especially not when a prick like Cormac McLaggen was enforcing them. McLaggen didn’t get far before Harry flung a knockback jinx his way.

McLaggen struggled to find his feet again. He glared at Harry when he regained his footing. 

“You never make things easy do you?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Harry teased.

McLaggen pulled his wand from his cloak and shot a curse his way. Their duel escalated as they cast stronger and less legal curses at one another . McLaggen was good with a wand, but Harry was better. He figured it was only a matter of time before more aurors showed up to even things out. 

As if on queue, two more of the ministry’s finest entered the alley and had their wants aimed at Harry. They eventually detained Harry with an offensive maneuver that he should have predicted. Or maybe he wanted to be caught. If there was one thing Harry loved more than knocking McLaggen on his arse, it was the look on the prick face when Robards favored Harry over him.

Harry cooperated as the aurors cuffed him and apparated them to the ministry. They weren’t gentle when they shoved Harry down into one of the chairs facing Robards’ desk. 

Harry sat alone in the bland office as he waited for Robards to arrive and laughed to himself when he heard him chide McLaggen for dragging him in for “something so trivial at this ungodly hour.”

The office door swung open and Robards rounded his desk to sit across from Harry. Being Head of Magical Law Enforcement wasn’t kind to his age. A job that had always been taxing became even more so when The Reform was introduced. The Ministry stuck its nose in everyone’s business. And being at the forefront of the activity, it turned a once kind man cold.

His features were hollow and sunken. His hair was weedy and tangled. His eyes were those of a man who’d been plagued by war. An ongoing war. A war between what was right and what was deemed necessary by the ministry. 

“Potter,” Robards addressed Harry who was sitting with perhaps too much familiarity in the chair on the other side of the desk.

“Gawain,” Harry reciprocated the greeting.

Robards sighed and shook his head at the informal way Harry addressed his former boss.

“What will it take for you to stop tormenting my aurers?” He asked, deciding to move past Harry’s tone. 

Harry shrugged and said nothing like a defiant schoolboy who had been sent to the headmaster’s office.

“Potter,” Robards’ tone was less forgiving. “This is serious. I could have let my men arrest you. I’m sure you’re aware that the penalty for attacking an auror--let alone three--is punishable by up to ten years in Azkaban?”

Harry sighed. “ Yes, I’m aware.”

“Then why do you insist on causing so much trouble?”

“Do you want an honest answer? Or a Ministry approved one?”

“I know you don’t approve of what we do here, Harry. But unfortunately that’s not for you to decide. You gave up your power when you stormed out two years ago.”

Robards paused giving Harry an opportunity to speak up.

“You were one of my top aurors. McLaggen’s job would be yours if you stayed. If you were to ever consider coming back--”

“Never.” Harry’s statement cut the end of Robards’ short. Harry would never be able to submit himself to the control of such a corrupt organization. He’d thought he made that clear when he “stormed out” as Robards put it lightly.

Robards looked at Harry with a disappointed yet understanding gaze. He nodded before continuing his thought. “No matter what, there will always be a place for you on my team. I want you to know that.”

“Noted,” Harry said as he stood up and snatched his cloak off the back of his chair. He walked out of the office not before hearing Robards warn him once more to stay out of trouble.


	3. Chapter 2

***Draco***

It didn’t take long for Draco’s crippling depression to return. The weight of Adriel’s death was simply too much to bear and there was nothing in his life to lessen the burden. For the first time in a long time, he felt truly alone. 

He’d stopped feeding regularly, only leaving the house when absolutely necessary. And when he did gather enough strength to do so, he was careless and threatened to leave a trail. If the Aurors found their lair so be it. He had nothing left to live for.

Eventually he wasn’t even able to feed at all and his hunger reduced him to a corps like state. Malcolm had given up trying to get him out of the house figuring that at least if Draco stayed in bed he wouldn’t have to pull him out of the sunlight.

Draco kept the vial that had been in Adriel's possession during his untimely demise. Holding it close both brought him comfort and pain, yet it was as if being parted from the small glass vial he would completely fall apart. It felt as though it was the only thing keeping him tied to this world. 

It wasn’t until a peculiar scent caught Draco’s attention that he was able to rise himself from his bed. It wasn’t surprising that the scent of the potion was familiar to him, he’d been training as a potions master before his transformation. Draco lifted the vial to his nose and his stomach turned once he got a good whiff. That awful feeling from that horrible night returned. He did a mental inventory through all of the potions and ingredients he’d had in the house but none matched what was in his hand. Not wanting to believe his nose, Draco scoured through his cabinets only to confirm that there was no match. This potion contained something that was much darker and far more dangerous than any household ingredient. Even the items in his less than legal collection did not match the scent. 

This new discovery sprung Draco out of his depression and straight into a manic state. He wouldn’t rest until he knew for sure what the cause of his love’s death was. He’d gone from spending all of his time locked away in his room to being locked away in the estate’s library. He feverishly paged through the hundreds of books on the shelves searching for anything that would clue him in on what had given him such a bad feeling. 

Days turned to weeks and he still hadn’t figured it out, but he was determined to do so. It wasn’t until he’d gone through the last of the books, the ones that he had desperately hoped would not hold the answers, that he had found it. It was his copy of (book of dark potions) that held the key. The description was identical and the (magical) scent that emanated from the page was that of the scent that clung to the vial. Adriel had been poisoned with bloodroot. 

Draco eyed the page in disbelief as he tried to wrap his mind around his discovery. It shouldn’t have been possible. Bloodroot was a highly regulated substance. He had never handled it, not even at the high level of potions work he had achieved in his previous life. As much has he wished it weren’t true, Draco couldn’t deny that this was a far more nefarious act than he had originally thought.

That night, Draco returned to Decadence for the first time in months. If he were to start a trail to Adriel’s killer, this was the place to do it.

Draco clenched the bottle in his hand as he scanned the crowd and kept his eyes peeled for any suspicious activities. His club was high scale but it was still underground and plenty of criminals made their way through. Tonight, Draco had particular interest in the potions dealers. It was expected that people wanted to get high and Decadence was the perfect venue to buy and sell. It was mostly harmless recreationals that entered the circulation, but Draco knew many of the dealers had ties in the dark arts. One of them was bound to know where the bloodroot came from.

It was a slow night for the market. It was nearly last call when Draco noticed a sly handoff. He quickly descended from the balcony overlooking the crowd careful to keep eyes on his target. 

He followed the man to the back of the house and once out of sight Draco rushed at him pinning the culprit to the wall. 

“Hey, man, I don’t have anything on me! I swear!” He whimpered. 

“Save it for the Aurors.” Draco spat. “Someone in the city is dealing bloodroot and you’re going to tell me who.”

“Bloodroot? No that’s not possible.”

“Lying isn’t wise.” Draco pushed his arm harder into the dealer’s chest, inspiring a gasp for air as he did. “You know something and you’re going to tell me. Even if I have to suck it out of you.” 

Draco flashed his fangs and the man’s eyes widened in terror as his gaze locked on the needle like teeth that protruded from Draco’s gums. 

“Please!” He begged. “I really don’t know anything! I’m just a runner. Bloodroot is impossible to get a hold of. Only the ministry has access to it.” 

Having decided that the punk was truly as naive as he claimed, Draco backed off.

“Get out of here. And I better not catch you in my club again.”

The man nodded frantically then took off. Draco banged his fist against the wall in frustration. He’d had no leads, but he'd be damned if he let whoever did this get away. 

“Malfoy?” The unmistakable voice of Harry Potter brought Draco out of his momentary rage. 

“What are you doing here, Potter?” Draco asked, trying his best to convey that Harry’s presence wasn’t entirely welcomed. 

“This is the only place in London to get a drink after curfew. Here for a similar reason?” As Harry said this he pushed his coat back to reveal the stake he kept on his belt. 

Draco raised an eyebrow at the gesture. “Are you really going to threaten me in my own club?”

“You’re club?” Harry’s stance relaxed slightly.

“Is it that hard to believe?”

“I guess not.”

Draco observed Harry under the dim lights of the club. His usual uniform of vigilante justice--an all black ensemble complete with auror quality robes and sturdy dragon hyde boots--was replaced by an old leather jacket, distressed jeans, and a fitted white t-shirt. Through which Draco was able to make out the outline of Harry’s incredibly sculpted figure. 

Brief as this exchange was, Draco found himself not wanting it to end. He wanted to cling to that spark of joy which seemed to ignite within him whenever in Harry’s company. The remanence of a flame that was never truly doused. 

“Still want that drink?” 

***Harry***

“Where are you going?” Harry asked Draco over the music. 

“The owner’s lounge. Unless you’d prefer to fight back the crowd.” Draco smirked and nodded for Harry to follow him up the stairs. 

Harry followed without protest. The music from below was dampened by some variation of a silencing charm as they crossed the threshold. The owner’s lounge was even more lavish than the main floor. Harry glanced around at the standing tables lined the balcony that looked out onto the general crowd, black leather couches were arranged around matching ottomens and side tables, and a bar with priceless liquors. There were about twenty or so people lounging and chatting. All were dressed in the latest fashions and many sipped cocktails with a red heue. 

“What’s your poison?” Draco turned to Harry when they reached the bar. Before Harry had a chance to answer, the bartender placed a martini glass on the counter next to Draco.

“Scotch, neat,” Harry directed to the bartender who nodded and had his drink prepared in seconds. He turned to observe the crowd again taking in the details he’s missed before. 

“I’m assuming most of your guests are--” 

“Vampires? Yes.” Draco answered before Harry was able to finish. “Not to worry though. They won’t attack you, unless I want them to.”

Harry scoffed and took a sip of his drink.

*

Harry had become a regular guest of Draco’s in no time. They’d spent many nights sipping their beverages long after the bartenders left for the evening, long after Malcolm escorted his female companion of the moment back to his and Draco’s shared residence, and even risked sunrise on some occasions. 

Harry could tell that Draco didn’t like going home to an empty bed and made a point to stall when he could. Not that Harry minded. He had grown to enjoy Draco’s company. The way they talked and laughed together reminded him of a simpler time. Draco always got Harry in a way no one else had. Not even Ron and Hermione at times. Yes, they suffered losses in the war and resisted The Reform, but Harry and Draco were touched by a darkness. One that could only be attributed to a connection with the Dark Lord.

It was something they had realized in their sixth year when Draco had taken the mark. It ignited something between them. It began as mutual understanding. After the sectumsempra incident they’d called a sort of truce. Almost as if they had finally realized that their rivalry wasn’t the battle they should have been fighting. This understanding grew into something that resembled a friendship. And then something more. Dark corridors and empty classrooms became their refuge as they explored this new intimacy. But as good things often do, it came to an end. 

“Can I ask you something?” Harry looked up from his drink when Draco spoke.

“I suppose,” Harry answered before finishing his glass and placing it on the table.

“When you were with the Aurors, did you hear of or see any use of illicit potions?” Draco asked. 

Harry became tense. Memories of his training flooded back in endless waves. Memories he’d spent years trying to rid himself of. 

“Almost everyday,” Harry finally said after taking a moment to compose himself. 

Draco said nothing. He fixed his gaze on Harry waiting for him to continue. 

Harry sighed. There was no use in trying to run from the past any longer. The ministry clawed its way back into his life and didn’t seem to be going anywhere any time soon.

“The ministry has an arsenal of deadly poisons and potions. Almost all of which are illegal. Why do you ask?”

“Adriel,” Draco began. “When I found him he’d been poisoned with bloodroot. The coroner ruled it a suicide, but,” he paused. “It just doesn’t sit right with me. He couldn’t even confirm what Adriel was poisoned with.”

“I’m not surprised. Bloodroot is one of the most heavily regulated poisons to date. Only the highest ranking ministry officials have access to it, not even the best potion smugglers can get their hands on it.”

Harry could see the gears in Draco’s brain turning as he began to connect the dots. He’d visibly clenched his jaw and his entire person had become tense. “Are you saying the ministry killed Adriel?” Draco’s words were barely a whisper, but the venom behind them was clear as day.

“I wouldn’t put it past them.” Harry knew it was probably the last thing Draco wanted to hear, but it was the truth. And he wasn’t going to keep that from him. Draco’s life could have been in danger as well and it was better that he had the knowledge necessary to protect himself if the event did arise. 

“If the coroner ruled it a suicide you can be sure the ministry threatened him to cover it up.” Harry said. 

Harry looked at Draco and watched as multiple emotions passed over the blonde’s face before landing on anger. If looks could kill, the one that rested on Draco’s face was a death sentence to whoever it was directed at. It was a controlled rage that could only be seen in the fire behind his stormy grey stare. Harry watched as the glass in Draco’s hand shattered in his crushing grip and was once again reminded just how dangerous Draco could be. It fascinated him and terrified him all at once.

“Excuse me,” Draco said as he stood abruptly. He brushed the stray shards of glass off his trousers and headed toward the door. 

“Draco,” Harry stood after him. “Where are you going?”

“I have some business to take care of,” Draco spoke the words without stopping or turning to face Harry.

“Draco, you can’t just charge into the ministry.” Harry warned. “That place is a fortress. Nearly all of the employees are brainwashed. Plus, you’re a war criminal and a rogue vampire. If they catch you they’ll do much worse than just kill you.”

“I’m sure I’ve endured worse.”

“No. You haven’t.”

Draco fell silent once more. He simply turned and faced Harry, crossing his arms. 

Harry signed and leaned back on one of the couches behind him. He knew Draco was waiting for an explanation and would either drag it out of him or leave despite Harry’s warning.

“The Reform had just begun when I joined the Aurors,” Harry began. He tried his best to keep his voice steady, but in turn found his hands were shaking. He knew Draco would notice, but he forced himself to continue. 

“I knew training would be demanding, but some of it was just cruel. They would use unforgivables on us nearly everyday, and awful potions when they didn’t. It was their rewritten philosophy that we as Aurors should train with anything we might face in the field. Before we could pass the program they…” Harry’s words trailed off as he tried to form them. “They made us drink The Drink of Despair.” The memories of the horrible things that potion made him see and feel. He had watched all of his loved ones die all over again. It felt as though fire was coursing through his veins. The nightmares that had plagued him after the war became relentless after that. He wasn’t able to get a good nights sleep unaided for months. Even the strongest of sleeping draughts prescribed to him by the ministry’s mind healers only took the edge off. 

“The whole process was meant to turn us into cold, obedient and unfeeling soldiers.” Harry spoke again. “And it worked.”

Draco stared at Harry. The look on the blonde’s face resembled the look he gave Harry before lying to his family, effectively protecting him from Voldemort. It was a look that one could only manage when they saw someone they cared about in pain. 

“That can’t be possible,” Draco said. “That can’t possibly be legal.”

“The Auror trainers can do whatever they want. The Minister is just a puppet controlled by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Whoever heads the department has total control over the entire Wizengamot.”

“Someone’s got to stop them.” Draco concluded. 

“You can’t. It’s impossible.”

“Well we’ve got to try! I won’t let them get away with what they did to you!” Draco paused. Harry, too, was taken aback by his slip of the tongue. “Or Adriel.”

A deafening silence engulfed them. All Harry wanted to do was cross to Draco and take him into his arms. To take away his pain. To tell him that everything would be alright. Even if it was a lie. Draco’s passion was always able to weaken his knees, and when he expressed that passion for Harry the world around them disappeared. In moments like this Draco was the only thing that mattered. Harry had to protect him. If the ministry was attacking civilians, there was nothing they weren’t willing to do.

“You should go,” Draco said quietly. 

“Draco,”

“We can discuss this further tomorrow evening.” Draco turned without another word and spelled the doors to lock after Harry. 

Harry sat with himself for a moment before casting a tempus to check whether or not it would be better to apparate or walk back to his flat. He needed to clear his head. 

The time read 6:20am. Sunrise.

“Draco! Wait!” Harry bolted down the stairs and across the main floor. He reached the back hall just as Draco was turning the handle.

Sunlight peeked through the crack of the heavy black door as it swung open. Draco cried out in pain as the rays from the morning sun scorched his skin. 

Harry ran to him and kicked the door shut as Draco fell into his arms.


End file.
